Hidden in Hogwarts
by MorningStar0804
Summary: The Potters were always aware of the prophesy and, in an attempt to save their son from his fate, the three fake their deaths to live in Potter Manor with the assistance of the house elves. When tragedy strikes on his 9th birthday, Harry is left alone to raise himself. At his arrival in Hogwarts everyone is keen to learn the many secrets of the boy. His biggest one?His baby sister.
1. Chapter 1

**An:Hiya guys! So this is my first HP fanfic, and I'm relatively new to this site. Reviews are highly appreciated, so let me know what you think.**

 **Disclaimer**

 **I do not own the world of Harry Potter, only the plot line of this story belongs to me. Please don't sue me!**

Hidden in Hogwarts: Chapter 1

An ancient man with a long white beard and paper-like skin gazed solemnly at the woman, whom appeared to be in her early twenties, who was stood before him. Lily Potter's face was almost entirely hidden beneath her blanket of red hair, revealing only a pair of bright emerald-green eyes. Dumbledore'seyes for once lacked their omnipresent twinkle, dulled by the news he had moments before revealed. Tears glittered in the depths of Lily's eyes as she absorbed the newfound information, and she eventually spoke after what seemed like an eternity.

"So he's the only one?"

Dumbledore nodded earnestly, tactfully deciding not to mention the other candidate that fitted the criteria. He felt that there was no need to also drag the Longbottoms into this, despite their partial involvement.

Lily sighed. It seemed nothing could ever go right in her life. And now, to top it all off, she had just discovered that her one-year-old son was destined to defeat the Dark Lord. He was just a baby!

"And there's no other way to avoid it?" Her voice was lost to all but Dumbledore in the midsts of the loud chatter that filled the Leaky Cauldron.

"I'm sorry, dear. There's no other option. We all have to make sacrifices for the Greater Good. Just think! One day, you son will be the one to end this way, once and for all! Everyone will worship him, no one won't recognise his name! He will be the saviour to the wizarding world!"

"That's not what I want for him though! He deserves to live a normal life. Why couldn't you find someone more experienced, instead of a mere child?" Exclaimed the agonised woman.

"It's the prophecy! He is the only one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord. We are helpless against the hands of fate."

Lily groaned in frustration. Surely the old man understood how unreliable prophecies were? He was supposed to be one of the greatest wizards since Merlin himself!

"I supposed I had better be leaving then, since I can see this conversation going no further."

Albums sighed as he regarded the retreating figure of one of his most intelligent former students. Why couldn't she grasp the concept of the Greater Good?

XxXxXxXx

James Potter stood waiting expectantly in the kitchen, awaiting his wife's return. Dumbledore had claimed in a letter that he had information of the utmost importance to share with them, but it was too confidential to reveal through mail. Lily had departed for the Leaky Cauldron little over an hour ago, and was due to return soon. Sure enough, moments later the fire glowed and out stumbled the petite of Lily Potter. She had tears streaming down her face, and James immediately reached out and and embraced her in a tight hug, and she buried her face in his chest.

"What happened?" He asked urgently.

After a moment of silence, Lily revealed all that their former headmaster had told her: the prophecy; Harry's role in the war; and their almost guaranteed deaths. James' face grew systematically darker as her tale progressed, until it finally drew to a close. Baby Harry was sitting in happily in his highchair, gurgling contentedly as he remained blissfully unaware as the most critical events in his lifeline were laid out before his parents' eyes.

"Is there anything we can do to prevent it from happening? I don't want our son in danger," James said quickly. He was, and always had been, wary of prophecies and the likes. They were always so imprecise and subject to change, but his heart sank as his wife shook her head sadly. Why did everything always have to go wrong?

James gazed at his son, so young and innocent, who was almost guaranteed to play a huge part in the war that was waging throughout Wizarding Britain. Suddenly, an idea popped into his head, and one could almost see the, as the muggles put it, metaphorical lightbulb appear over his head.

"I think I have a solution," he said eagerly, and the pair spent the remainder of the night of the thirtieth of October 1981 formulating a plan to save their baby from the horrors of the war, and was put into action less than 24 hours later.

XxXxXxXx

On the night of Halloween, Albus Dumbledore sat in his office at Hogwarts, pondering over many subjects, including that of certain predictions and the Greater Good. It would be a costly win for the Light side, but he knew that all would work out eventually. All he had left to do now was wait. His secret weapon would still need many more years before he would be ready to defeat the Dark Lord, and Albus was already anticipating how the Light would emerge victorious. After all, there was no power stronger than that of love. Was there?

With a sudden _CRACK,_ a nervous-looking house elf apparatus into the room and jolted him out of his stupor.

"Mister Dumbledore, sir, there has been an attack at Master James Potter's house, sir. He has sent Tibby to asks for sir's help. Master says the Death Eaters is takings them sir, and you have to be quick," the house elf squeaked out quickly, and dread filled Albus as the house elf apparated away away once again. He was up in a flash, striding briskly over to the fire place. He threw in a handful of floo powder and stepped into the dancing flames.

"Godric's Hollow," he called out in a loud, clear voice.

After mere seconds of the sensation of wind rushing past his ears, Albus Dumbledore stepped out of the fireplace and into the kitchen of Godric's Hollow.

There were sure signs of struggle, with many chairs and silverware knocked onto the floor. The room was in an absolute state, and an eerie silence had filled the room.

A sense of anticipation filled him as Albus searched the room in vain, hoping to find evidence of what had happened. However, there was no sign of life within the house, not even that of young Harry Potter. He sighed sadly. There was only one event that could have happened on that fateful night. It was obvious that Voldemort had discovered the prophecy, and kidnapped the Potters in an attempt to prevent the outcome. He knew that there was next to no hope of the Potters surviving the whole ordeal. It was time to spread the word. Their last hope was dead.

XxXxXxXx

A snowy white owl by the name of Hedwig flew into the kitchen of the Manor House. An eager hand grabbed the mail from her claws, rewarding her with a slice of bacon. The dark-haired man opened the latest edition of _the Daily Prophet_ and began reading the front page article, chuckling as he did so.

 _Supposed saviour of the wizarding world DEAD?_

 _An article by Rita Skeeter_

 _In the late hours of yesterday he-who-must-not-be-named launched yet another attack on an innocent wizarding family, leaving the Potter family of three amongst many others dead at the Dark Lord's hands. However, this was not just another random attack. Read on about an exclusive interview with Albus Dumbledore to find out more._

 _RS:So tell me why this attack is a particular setback on the outcome of the war._

 _AD:You see, a while a certain seer friend of mine made a prediction about how the war will end. They claimed that Harry Potter, James and Lily's son, will be the one to vanquish the Dark Lord._

 _RS:So what do you believe will happen now that our supposed saviour is dead?_

 _AD:We will continue as we have been, fighting against the Dark Lord's forces. There are plenty of other wizards who are potentially able to banish him once and for all, but we can only hope._

 _For the rest of the interview turn to page 6, and for more information on prophesies turn to page 12._

James Potter set the paper down and turned to face his wife Lily, handing the paper to her. A slow grin spread across her face as she examined the contents of the news article, and she hugged the black-haired baby in her arms closer to her chest.

"We did it."


	2. Chapter 2

**AN:Wow! I've actually had quite a bit of positive feedback so far on this story. Thanks so much to all those who favourited, followed and reviewed. It's all highly appreciated, and helps me know how to adapt and improve my story.**

 **Disclaimer**

 **Nope, still don't own the world of Harry Potter. As much as I would love to , I could never be that original.**

Hidden in Hogwarts: Chapter 2

A five-year-old boy sprinted through the vast hallways of Potter Manor, giggling manically when he heard the yells of frustration coming from the direction of the kitchen. Harry's parents had never seen him coming, thanks to the invisibility cloak he had discovered in one of the many storage rooms of his home. He had always been a devious little child, inherited from his father, much to his mum's annoyance. So far he had only gotten around to nicking food from the dining room, but both his parents could already sense the young mischief maker hidden under the surface. A loud, metallic clatter echoed through the door, shortly followed by a shouted string of curse words. Harry grinned as his mind registered his dad's voice from the kitchen.

"Oh, Merlin! Lily, I didn't even _hear_ him! I swear, that kid is going to be the death of me one day! The little sneak!"

Harry grinned to himself and hurriedly stuffed his face with his newly-aquired pumpkin pasty, one of both his and his father's personal favourites.

"Ha! Y'know, he reminds me a bit of you, James," Mum scoffed. She always took Harry's side after his pranks, mostly because she was never the subject.

"That's it! I'm coming after you, you little monkey!" Dad roared, but there was a playful edge to it, and as suddenly dashed from the room, determined on finding Harry.

Harry squealed nervously and began sprinting even faster towards the end of the hallway, away from the oncoming echoing of Dad's footsteps. However, as he took his first step, the cloak got caught underneath, resulting in it falling to the floor, revealing Harry's position. Within seconds, he was tackled to the ground by his laughing father, and a tickle war was raging. His mum watched on fondly at her two favourite people. She often wondered what might have happened had they not isolated themselves from the rest of the wizarding world four years previously. What were the chances that they would still be as happy as they were right now? She doubted it. There wasn't much time for fun while fighting alongside the Order of the Phoenix against Voldemort. Lily was certain that they had made the right choice in a allowing their son to have a childhood rather than being trained as a weapon in the war.

James and Harry seemed to have come to a mutual agreement on who had one. Dad had him pinned the floor, and Harry eventually stopped squirming desperately against him. They eventually both rolled to the floor, panting breathlessly. Lily grinned. Yes, she had definitely made the right decision.

XxXxXxXx

Eight-year-old Harry stared and the baby in front of him. Emily was two months old, and his parents had entrusted her in his care while they popped out to the shops to purchase the groceries. He was determined to not let anything happen to her while they were gone, so therefore refused to allow her to leave his sight. Their eyes were locked together in a staring contest, and Harry eventually gave up. He sighed. His baby sister didn't tend to be very entertaining, and Harry was extremely bored. His parents had been gone for what seemed like hours, and the house elves were too busy preparing dinner to play with them. If only he knew where his parents left the brooms.

Hedwig, the family's owl, flew through the window of the nursery and deposited _the Daily Prophet_ onto the floor beside him. He thanked the owl before quickly skimming over the main articles, but finding nothing out of the ordinary. Voldemort's attacks had grown less and less frequent over the years, until now they had become a very rare occurrence. Delving further into the paper and still finding nothing of interest, he settled the paper back onto the floor beside Em. His parents and the house elves had been teaching him basic lessons in life like how to read and write, but he was also allowed to occasionally learn a selection of spells, and now Harry was advancing quickly through the Hogwarts curriculum. His parents guessed he now had the knowledge of an advanced second year, or low third. Mum and Dad had decided not to send him to Hogwarts, since they felt he was untrustworthy and manipulative. Harry agreed. From what his parents had told him about the mad headmaster, he sounded completely off his rocker. He was also told all along about the Prophesy, but also how fickle and imprecise they were.

Em began to cry loudly. Harry was getting frustrated. His parents had now left two hours ago on what they claimed was a 'short' errand, and he was now beginning to doubt their sincerity. Harry carefully picked up his baby sister and balanced her on his hip, walking slowly to the kitchen so as not to jostle her. He was a very protective older brother and took his role seriously. Mum had said that if she started crying then he had to feed her. Now... where did she say the instructions were? Aha! Placing Em in her highchair, he warmed the milk in the microwave and tested the temperature on his wrist. Deciding that it was acceptable, he poured it into a small pink beaker and held it to Em's mouth. as she sucked on it gratefully, Harry began to wonder what his parents were doing. It was his birthday tomorrow; what were the chances that they were just preparing for that? Highly unlikely, he concluded. His parents tended to always make a rather large deal out of such events, and it was extremely out of character for them to leave preparations to last minute.

It was beginning to get late now. Harry decided, as the responsible and independent child he was, that he would take both himself and Em to bed. Walking up the flight of stairs with a baby in arms proved to be difficult, but manageable. Em's room was painted a neutral yellow, decorated with painted elephants of varying shades of blue and pink. Her cot was situated in the far corner, with glow-in-the-dark stars stuck above.

Gently laying the young child under the quilt, Harry began to quietly hum a lullaby, lulling her slowly to sleep. It was a muggle song that his parents had used to sing to him while they lived in Godric's Hollow, and it had always stuck in his head. Softly closing the door after him as he left the room and tiptoed his way into his own room. He barely could manage the effort of changing into his Quidditch pyjamas before collapsing into bed, exhausted after his long day.

XxXxXxXx

The next day, Harry was rudely awoken by Em crying loudly. He could hear it from the other side of the manor! He waited impatiently for one of his parents to make her settle down, but the time never came. Sighing groggily, he rose out of bed and made his way to his baby sister's room. From downstairs, he could smell the faint aroma of frying bacon, and was suddenly hit with the realisation that it was his birthday. He was nine! He ran the rest of the way to Em's room, and burst through the door energetically.

"Hey Em! Guess what? It's my birthday!" He exclaimed happily, and the young girl gazed up at him uncomprehendingly.

Harry picked her up swiftly and began bouncing her up and down on his knee. She giggled.

"Let's go and find Mum and Dad, hey? We can ask them what took so long last night," he laughed, before quickly but carefully carrying her down the stairs and into the dining room.

Harry burst through the oak door, expecting to find a room with his parents grinning widely at him, balloons tied to each chair and the table filled with intricately wrapped presents, but was mildly disappointed to find it significantly lacking in all three. _Oh well,_ he thought dismissively. Nothing could ruin his good mood.

Harry snapped his fingers loudly to summon one of the family's ten house elves. Mickey appeared, and Harry immediately began ordering a large breakfast for the family of four, hoping to surprise Mum and Dad. Within minutes, a hearty feast filled the table with a wide range of food that varied from pancakes to fruit to bacon. Delicious smells filled the large room, and Harry waited dutiful for his parents to arrive, Em sitting opposite him in her special chair.

After a quarter of an hour passed, Harry decided to turn on the muggle television set that sat in the corner of the room. Mum had insisted on buying one to remember her upbringing and Dad, being the softie he was, agreed without complaint. It immediately tuned in to the local news station, something about a crash outside the local convenience store, resulting in two unidentified casualties. _Boring,_ Harry thought, and glanced at the clock, which read 10 o'clock.

 _Mum and Dad never sleep in this long._ Deciding to take action, Harry picked up Em again and prodded back upstairs to his parents' bedroom. the door was slightly ajar, and Harry pushed it open all the way.

The bed was made, and there was a distinct lack of grown-ups in the room. Snapping his fingers again, Harry asked Mickey if he knew where they were.

"Mickey is sorry young master Harry, but I has not seen masters since yesterday morning, sir,'" and with a _CRACK,_ the elf disappeared.

Harry returned back to the dining room, and began to help himself to the food on the table.

He waited for his parents return. And waited. And waited.

But they never came back.


	3. Chapter 3

**AN:I'm back! Thanks so much for all the reviews, they really help me improve my story. For all those who asked about Sirius, he unfortunately will not be involved in Harry's pre-Hogwarts life. In order for James and Lily to effectively fake their deaths on such short notice, they could risk telling no one lest Dumbledore finds out. Also, I believe that now Harry would be unsure of how to contact him.**

 **Disclaimer:Any characters you see in this story besides my own OCs belong to the one and only J.K. Rowling.**

Hidden in Hogwarts: Chapter 3

Two years had now passed since that fateful day. Never had Harry discovered what had become of his parents, be they alive or dead. With the rest of the Wizarding world believing him to be dead, Harry could risk no contact with any of his parents' old friends. Therefore, he had no other option other than to raise himself and Em alone, with the assistance of the few house elves that still resided in the manor. He had been teaching himself what Mum and Dad hadn't had the time to, with the guidance of the expansive Potter library to back him up.

Harry sighed and slammed the book in front of him closed, something about the Goblin War of 1658. The sounds of Em's crying had been filtering through the library door for nearly an hour now, and it was proving impossible to focus. Placing the battered book back onto its shelf, he exited the library to check up on his baby sister. With himself at such a young age, he had started off with next to no knowledge on how to raise her. However, after several long research sessions and an uncanny amount of trial-and-error, he believed himself to have gotten the hang of it.

Em lay crying in her crib, and Harry reluctantly picked her up and placed her on his hip. He took his role very seriously, showing wisdom beyond his years, and had become extremely protective over his little sister, but sometimes her antics could become highly annoying during his sessions in the library. Taking her down to the kitchen, he prepared her some food in what had now become a familiar routine. The minute he sat down, Harry heard a light tapping at the window. Curious, he wandered over to see what it was. A large brown barn-owl stood on the windowsill, a letter clutched tightly in its claws. Harry immediately opened the window wide, pondering over the contents of the letter. The owl flew in swiftly, depositing the letter on the small table before returning through the window.

Harry cautiously began to break the unfamiliar wax seal of the letter. To his shock, the contents read:

 _HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY_

 _Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore_

 _(Order of Merlin First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,_

 _Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_

 _Dear Mr Potter,_

 _We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at_

 _Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find_

 _enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment._

 _Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later_

 _than 31 July._

 _Yours Sincerely,_

 _Minerva McGonagall_

 _Deputy headmistress_

With all the events that had occurred recently, Harry had completely forgotten that today was 31 July- his birthday! His parents had never wanted him to go to Hogwarts, and for him to remain 'dead' to the Wizarding world- and therefore immune to the prophesy. However, after his parent's assumed death, he had always known he would be required to attend. The reason that the letter had been delivered to a 'dead' student was because they were automated- Hogwarts herself sent them out to all that were capable of performing magic. Once she sensed Harry's magic, a letter had been automatically sent out to him.

Harry considered his reply for a moment, before quickly scribbling down his answer and sending it off with Hedwig. He had always wanted to visit the school his parents had sways spoken so fondly of.

His parents. The word alone left him feeling hollow and melancholy. The mystery of their disappearance had never been resolved, but he assumed the worst. What else could have happened besides their deaths? He was determined to raise Em as he himself had been raised, and therefore how his parents would have wanted. It filled him with sorrow that he had to go against their wishes in going to Hogwarts, but he knew that it was required. It was the only way for him to gain an official education, which he could then pass on to Em.

And so, he began planning for his arrival at Hogwarts.

XxXxXxXxXx

It was the 31 August, the last day before Harry's arrival at Hogwarts. Harry was currently weaving through the overcrowded streets of Diagon Alley, attempting to find the shops in which he could purchase the required reading material for his first year at Hogwarts. Em sat, disillusioned, on his hip. Harry had decided against leaving her at the Manor alone with the House Elves, instead opting to bring her with him.

Even though most of the books on the list Harry had already read, he decided that he might as well invest in a new set, since those in the Potter library were rather old. However, he also had another motive for being in Diagon Alley that day.

Harry had known all along that Albus Dumbledore must not be made aware of Em's existence, lest she fall prey to his manipulations. Therefore, to maintain his ignorance, he needed to invest in some affective ways to hide her. His father's invisibility cloak was all well and good, but there was always the off chance that it slip off and reveal her.

Harry glanced at the list that was clutched in his hands, reading the first item on the list. An owl. Well, he had Hedwig for that, so he could check that off the list. Next was a wand.

He scanned over the heads of the crowd for Ollivander's, eventually locating it where it resided at the end of the busy street. As he made his way through the hoards of people, he almost laughed at how easy it was to spot the muggle-borns. Their faces were lit up with awe and fascination at the wide variety of things to buy: self-stirring cauldrons, talking mirrors, glanceable our hats, and many other items. To Harry, though, it was just another day in the life.

A light tinkle of a bell rang through the store as Harry opened the oak door. He stood in front of the ancient desk and examined the rows upon rows of wands that decorated the high shelves on the walls. The room was cluttered with various inconsequential items, including a large pile of books seated upon the desk. Harry began to read the titles of those that he could see.

"Ah! Another first year? A muggle-born, I presume?"

Harry almost jumped out of his skin at the sudden noice, and he looked up hastily to see Olivander himself standing behind the desk.

"Uh, yeah. My name's Joseph Clark." Harry had already decided that he would need a different name for his visit to the wand store, since Olivander was a close acquaintance of Dumbledore. There was a high chance of him reporting back to the headmaster, what with him supposedly dead. Better to be safe than sorry, right?

"Okay, Joseph. And which arm is your wand arm?"

Harry held out his right arm, and Olivander immediately began to take measurements with his magical tape measure. Once happy with the result, he plucked a seemingly random box from one of the shelves and handed the wand within to Harry. Waving it slightly, a glass on the table suddenly shattered. Harry hastily handed the wand back to the wand-maker. Olivander handed him another wand. Harry waved it, which ended with a similar result.

This pattern continued for a long while, with Olivander growing more and more animated with each try. It seemed that he enjoyed the good challenge. Harry, on the other hand, was getting rather bored.

After about twenty minutes had passed with still no result and the store in an even larger sense of untidiness, Olivander paused in his searching, hesitating slightly over one wand in particular.

"I wonder..."

Immediately regaining his former vigour, Olivander handed yet another wand to Harry. However, this time, when the wand entered his grasp, a warm breeze spread throughout the store.

"It seems, Mr Clark, that this wand has chosen you. Holly and Phoenix feather. The wizard with the brother core to this wand... terrible things, he did. Great, but terrible. It seems that we will be keeping an eye on what to expect from you in the future. Use your wand wisely."

Harry was unsure of how to react to this statement. Surely he didn't mean that the brother to his wand was Voldemort? And who was the ominous 'we' that Olivander had mentioned?

"How much for the wand, sir?"

Olivander seemed to jump out of his stupor. "Ah yes, that will be eight galleons please Mr Clark."

Harry handed the corresponding amount and hurried out of the shop, bidding farewell to the batty wand-maker.

XxXxXxXxXx

Albus Dumbledore, the current headmaster of Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry, was sat at his desk when the floor suddenly turned green.

"Hello, Albus?" called a familiar voice.

"Olivander, old friend! Do come in," Dumbledore greeted merrily, trying to remember if he had organised a meeting with the wand-maker.

Stepping out of the fireplace, Olivander studied the room around the pair, ensuring that they were alone.

"I have come with news regarding a muggle-born student who is to be entering Hogwarts among the first-years, by the name of Joseph Clark."

"Oh? And what might that be?"

"Said student entered my store earlier this day, and it was just that I wished to inform you of his wand type. Holly and Phoenix feather, as given by Fawkes here," Olivander began, gesturing towards said Phoenix, "coincidentally, the brother wand to the DarkLord himself. Just thought you would like to know." And with that, he left.

Dumbledore leaned back on his chair, running this new information through his brain. He sincerely hoped that Britain wouldn't have another Dark Lord on the rise. One was quite enough.


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: I'm back! Thanks to all those who have followed and reviewed, it's all very much appreciated. I may not be updating quite as often for a while since I am now back at school. I'm not too sure about the pairings for this story, but it's definitely not going to be Harry/Ginny or Harry/Hermione, so please leave any suggestions in the reviews.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any associated characters or places.**

Hidden in Hogwarts: Chapter 4

Harry stood in the midst of the busy train station, examining the wall between platforms 9 and 10. As he remembered his parents telling him, he was supposed to simply pass through the wall, which in turn lead to platform 9 3/4. He shrugged nonchalantly to himself and carefully steered his trunk to face the wall, ensuring that Em was firmly secured to his hip. And then, he was running towards the wall. Closer, closer... and then it was gone. In its place, was an overly-crowded platform, packed to the brink with young school children with trunks similar to his own. The Hogwarts Express sat grandly on the tracks, already being in place. Owls, cats and toads could be seen littered throughout the scene, an extraordinarily odd sight for those first years that had been raised by muggles.

After loading his trunk onto the train, Harry found an empty compartment and settled onto the cushioned seat inside. He gently placed a sleeping Em beside him, ensuring that the Invisibility cloak was closely secured over her small figure. Picking up one of his first year textbooks, he began to revise the curriculum.

After he had finished both the first and second year books, Harry heard a light tap on the door to the compartment. It slowly slid open, revealing a seemingly timid blonde, round-faced boy.

"Would you mind if I sit with you? All the other compartments are taken," he asked nervously.

Harry paused, setting his book down. He liked to think of himself as a good judge of character, and this boy seemed to ooze kindness.

"Sure, why not."

The boy sighed in relief, having been unsure as to what the answer would have been. He immediately moved towards the seat opposite to Harry.

"I'm Neville, by the way. Neville Longbottom."

"I'm Harry."

A moment of silence passed between the two boys, when Neville suddenly asked:

"Oh, have you seen a toad, by the way? I lost Trevor on the platform."

"Sorry, I haven't. Do you know what house you're going to be in?" Harry enquired curiously. This boy seemed to posses characteristics of lots of houses.

"I'm not too sure. I'd like to be a Gryffindor, but I doubt that I'd get in. I'm not exactly brave, you see. What about you?"

"I was thinking maybe Ravenclaw seems a good fit," mused Harry. He hadn't given houses much thought, having larger matters at hand.

"Oh. I guess you like reading then?" Neville asked, indicating the closed book to Harry's side.

Harry grinned. "That obvious, is it?"

The boys both laughed.

The train ride passed quickly after that. No one else joined their compartment, but a girl with bushy brown hair and rather large front teeth had entered towards the end, introducing herself as Hermione Granger. And before they knew it, the train had arrived a t Hogsmead station.

"Firs'-years! Firs'-years over here!" Called an abnormally large man, who Harry guessed to be Hagrid, the school groundskeeper, judging from his parents' description. "C'mon, follow me. Any more firs' years? Mind yer step, now! Firs'-years follow me!"

Slipping and stumbling, the small crowd of first years followed Hagrid down what appeared to be a steep, narrow path. It was so dark either side of them that Harry thought there must be thick trees there. Nobody spoke much.

Hagrid led them to a large lake with a fleet of little boats, which they obediently boarded. Harry shared his with Neville, Hermione and an obnoxiously loud boy with ginger hair who introduced himself as Ron.

The boats glided silently over the glittering lake, and eventually they pulled to a stop. Hagrid led the group of nervous first years into the entrance hall, where they were met by a severe-looking woman who introduced herself as Professor McGonagall, head of the house Gryffindor.

She informed them of what the Sorting consisted of, then the basic principles of each of the houses - Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. In Harry's opinion, it sounded like Mcgonagall was rather biased in favour towards the Gryffindors.

There were sudden gasps from the front of the room, and Harry craned his neck to see what was happening, and next to him, Neville mimicked him. Four pearly-white transparent beings had glided into the room, apparently deep in conversation. Harry immediately recognised them from Hogwarts: A History as the house ghosts, and almost laughed at some of the other first years' looks of both terror and awe.

"The Sorting Ceremony's about to start. Form a line and follow me," she called.

The anxious first years followed in an organised line, Harry towards the back with Hermione in front of him and Neville behind. They walked out of the chamber and through a set of double doors, into the Great Hall.

Everyone gasped as they entered the vast hall. It was lit with thousands of hovering candles with four long tables, one for each house. Hundreds of students stared back at the nervous new pupils. Professor McGonagall led them into a horizontal line facing the tables, with the teacher's table behind them.

Professor McGonogall silently placed a battered-looking pointed wizard's hat on top of a three-legged stool. It was patched and dirty, not really surprising since it was the Sorting Hat, and had been passed over many heads over the years.

Everyone in the Great Hall stared at the Hat expectantly, and the room was filled with utter silence. After a few tense moments, the Hat twitched, and the brim opened wide like a mouth. And then it began to sing.

 _"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,_

 _But don't judge on what you see,_

 _I'll eat myself if you can find_

 _A smarter hat than me._

 _You can keep you bowlers black,_

 _Your top hats sleek and tall_

 _For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat_

 _And I can cap them all._

 _There's nothing hidden in your head_

 _The Sorting Hat can't see,_

 _So try me on and I will tell you_

 _Where you ought to be._

 _You might belong in Gryffindor'_

 _Where dwell the brave at heart,_

 _Their daring, nerve and chivalry_

 _Set Gryffindor apart._

 _You might belong in Hufflepuff,_

 _Where they are just and loyal,_

 _Those patient Hufflepuffs are true_

 _And unafraid of toil;_

 _Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw_

 _If you've a ready mind,_

 _Where those of wit and learning,_

 _Will always find their kind;_

 _Or perhaps in Slytherin_

 _You'll make your real friends,_

 _those cunning folk use any means_

 _To achieve their ends._

 _So put on me! Don't be afraid!_

 _And don't get in a flap!_

 _You're in safe hands (though I have none)_

 _For I'm a thinking cap!_

The room burst into an enthusiastic applause as the song drew to a close, and the hat bowed slightly in the direction of the four house tables before becoming still once again. Professor McGonagall stepped forwards, holding a long roll of parchment.

"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she said. "Abbott, Hannah!"

The girl who stumbled out of the line sat nervously on the stool, and the hat was placed over her head, falling slightly below her eyes. After a moments pause-

"HUFFLEPUFF!" Declared the hat. The table on the right cheered as Hannah almost ran to join her new house mates.

"Bones, Susan," called McGonagall.

"HUFFLEPUFF," The hat shouted again, and Susan strolled easily to the same table.

The sorting continued, with Hermione Granger being sorted into Ravenclaw and Neville Longbottom into Gryffindor. The sorting continued, until McGonagall paused suddenly, squinting at the roll of parchment before her. She looked up in confusion, before calling-

"Potter, Harry."

The Hall filled with a tense silence. Bewilderment filled the faces of every student and teacher. Glancing up at the head table, Harry could see an almost blinding twinkle in the Headmaster's eye. And finally, Harry stepped forward.

Almost immediately, the silence was broken, filled with different exclamations and hisses of surprise.

Harry strolled easily to the three-legged stool, immune to the shocked stares of the students and mutters of "But isn't he _dead?"_

With the hat placed on his head and covering his eyes.

'Hmm,' said a small voice in his ear. 'A Potter, didn't think I'd be seeing one of you this year. Now where to put you? Plenty of loyalty, a strong sense of bravery, combined with underlying cunning? Quite a variety, I haven't seen this sort of range in many years. Really, you could go to any house you wish. So what will it be?'

'I'm not sure, but I was thinking Ravenclaw? I really like learning, and I think that would be the best place for me,' Harry replied timidly.

"Alright, better be RAVENCLAW," Announced the hat loudly.

The occupants of the hall could only gaze in disbelief as the small figure skipped happily to the Ravenclaw table to join his friend Hermione.

 **XxXxXxXx**

 **AN: I'm really sorry about how long this chapter has taken, but I've had to be studying for a load of exams this week, including a piano practical, theory,** **flute practical, GCSE practical and theory, and it doesn't help that I've been cursed with writers block.**


	5. Chapter 5

**AN:Hiya, I've returned! Thanks for all the reviews, and I just wanted to point out to those of you who mentioned it in the last chapter: Neville's hair colour is unspecified in the books, but JK revealed that she always believed he had blonde hair, which is what I am sticking with. It is commonly believed however that he has brown hair since in the movies Matthew Lewis that is how he is presented.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own the world of Harry Potter.**

 **XxXxXxXx**

Hidden in Hogwarts: Chapter 5

Harry walked happily to the Ravenclaw table, chasing to ignore the flabbergasted stares that followed his every move, instead opting to plop himself down opposite a highly confused-looking Hermione.

"You never said you were Harry _Potter,"_ she accused, to which Harry responded by laughing merrily.

"Well, you never asked," he answered, and Hermione rolled her eyes at the boy's antics. "Anyway, aren't you supposed to be dead?"

"Nah, that was just a suspicion. They had no evidence to support the claim, and were to lazy to find out any more."

"True, I guess. And what about your parents?" At this question, Harry's face became solemn.

"I'll tell you later," he replied, eyeing the Headmaster cautiously as he stood up to begin the welcome speech.

"Welcome!" Exclaimed the slightly batty old man. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!"

Everyone clapped and cheered, minus Harry, who was trying to discover the hidden meaning behind the words. Finding none, Harry decided it was always possible the professor was describing himself. He certainly was an oddment in need of a rather large tweak.

The headmaster sat back down in his chair, and the tables were suddenly filled to the brim with food, and the hall filled with the first years' gasps of surprise. Harry and Hermione tucked in, and Harry was suddenly bombarded with a vast array of questions.

"Are you _really_ Harry Potter?"

"Are you going to defeat You-Know-Who?"

"Are your parents alive? Are you living with them?"

At the last question, Harry released a dark glare to the enquirer, in turn causing the remainder of the students to hurry back to their meals. Harry was rather proud. He had been practising his glares, and was pleased to know his hard work had paid off.

The feast progressed, with Harry and Hermione conversing together. Harry soon learned that Hermione was muggle-born, and was raised by her Mum and Dad. She was especially keen on reading, or so he guessed. It wasn't hard to realise, what with the constant stream of facts she was reciting, as told Hogwarts:A History, and further backed up by her ramblings about the past of the Hogwarts ghosts- especially the Ravenclaw one, the Grey Lady.

Throughout the feats, Harry was unaware of a certain Defence professor's eyes on his back, gazing at him in disbelief.

At last, the puddings disappeared, and Professor Dumbledore rose to his feet, effectively silencing the entirety of the Great Hall.

"Ahem- just a few more words now we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you. First-years should note that the forest in the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few older students would do well to remember that as well." His twinkling eyes flashed to two red-headed twins at the Gryffindor table, who looked vaguely similar to Ron Weasley. "I also have been asked by Mr Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between class and in the corridors. Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch. And finally, I would like to introduce the new Defence Against The Dark Arts teacher: Professor Sirius Black."

Harry's head shot up and, sure enough, sat up at the head table, sat Sirius Black- his father's best friend- staring at him with an unreadable expression on his face.

XxXxXxXxXx

Sirius Orion Black sat at the head table of the Great Hall, remembering the last day he had been here, with his best mates- James Potter, Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew, one of which is dead, one is a rebound traitor to the light, and one of which he had lost contact with several years ago. He was paying little attention to the Sorting ceremony that was occurring, too caught up in his own string of thoughts to pay any mind. However, he was soon jolted out of his daydream when the room was filled with a deafening silence after one name in particular was called-

"Potter, Harry."

Sirius's head shot up just in time to see a young boy of average height with jet black, messy hair step forward out of the line.

It _couldn't_ be him, could it? It just can't. He was announced dead years ago- along with his parents. But the parchment of names didn't lie. And neither did his appearance.

Sirius gazed, entranced, at the back of the young boy's back. Could it be him? A shiver of hope ran through his body- did this mean James and Lily could be alive ion this was truly their son? It was an emotion that he believed to had been lost on that hateful Halloween night, and he had most certainly missed its thrilling grasp.

The boy he dearly hoped was Harry sat upon the famous three-legged-stool and the Sorting Hat was placed upon his head. Harry sat incredibly still for what seemed to him- and the other occupants of the hall- like an eternity. And eventually, the hat announced-

"RAVENCLAW!"

Sirius grinned. If this was James and Lily's baby, then it was clear to see where he had got his brains from, what with Lily's skills in charms and potions, and James's in transfiguration.

Harry strolled over happily to the Ravenclaw table, either oblivious or choosing to ignore the suspicious stares that followed his every move. Sirius predicted the latter. He examined the young boy closely. He had James's hair and bone structure, but had inherited Lily's piercing green eyes. Eyes that, upon further examination, held an age beyond his years. Hidden behind a confident and happy facade was an overworked boy with much too many responsibilities- but Sirius didn't even know half of it.

Sirius smiled as Dumbledore's speech ended and the feast appeared on the table, much to the first years' delight. The Hall was filled with the time of cutlery clattering against plates and happy chatter from each the four tables. He then helped himself to the food in front of him and began to converse with McGonagall, all the while keeping his eye on a certain Ravenclaw first year.

At long last the feast was finished and, with an exaggerated flourish, Dumbledore swept his hands as the plates vanished, before finishing his speech and finally introducing Sirius as the new DADA professor.

As this was announced, Harry's head shot up, and Sirius internally cheered. He was in need of a serious discussion with his Godson.


	6. Chapter 6

**AN:Hi again! Thanks to all those who favouritedfollowed, it's really helpful. I'm still looking for pairings to include later on in the story, so suggestions are appreciated in the reviews. Sorry for the late update!**

 **Disclaimer:** **Still don't own Harry Potter, unfortunately.**

XxXxXxXxXx

Hidden in Hogwarts: Chapter 6

Harry, Hermione and all the other Ravenclaw first years were lead by the Ravenclaw Prefect to the common room, which was situated on the fifth floor of the west tower. They stood in front of a door that, curiously enough, had no handle or keyhole, but only a bronze knocker in the shape of an eagle. To the first years' surprise, the eagle began to talk:

"What has an eye, but cannot see?" It asked, and the prefect answered without hesitation-

"A needle." They then turned to face the students. "To enter the Ravenclaw common room you must answer a riddle, to keep students from other students out. Merlin knows why, since half of them can't even find their own way up here."

This caused a fair few snickers from the group as they stepped through the doorway, where they all stopped and gasped as they caught sight of the room.

It was fairly sized, with many blue and bronze armchairs scattered around the room. A fire roared merrily in the corner of the room, with a group of third years playing a game of exploding snap on the fluffy rug on the hearth. Many other students were dotted around the room, performing various activities such as what appeared to be last-minute homework, reading and wizard's chess.

The Prefect informed them of various study clubs that occurred regularly and pointed out the first-year dorm rooms before leaving to join their fellow sixth years.

Harry bade Hermione goodnight before hurrying up the staircase and into the boys' dorm, which he was sharing with Terry Boot, Michael Corner and Anthony Goldstein.

The room consisted of four beds, accompanied by battered-looking desks which sat resolutely by their room, with each of the boys' trucks sat upon the mattresses. Harry rushed to his bed and perched on the corner of it, drawing the sound-proof blue hangings shut. He felt along the mattress, eventually finding an unexplained lump in the bed. Harry pulled off the invisibility cloak, revealing a giggling Em. Tibby, a Potter house elf, had apparated her up shortly before the Welcoming feast, since Harry was hoping to make her existence remain a secret to the Hogwarts faculty.

Harry grabbed a book from inside his trunk and began to read out loud to his sister, and she wriggled around happily as she listened without a sound.

After a short while, Em fell asleep by Harry's side and the young boy was left to think over the events of the day. What were the chances of his Dad's best mate beginning his first years of teaching in the same year Harry arrived at Hogwarts? Very slim, that's what. Harry already knew he would be required to pay the dear old headmaster a visit tomorrow after his first class tomorrow. And possibly Sirius, too. Harry wasn't too keen on either of those talks- in fact, he was almost dreading them, but both for very different reasons. Sirius would be wanting to know what happened to his parents, and Dumbledore would be keen to entrap Harry in his manipulative clutches.

With these thoughts on his mind, Harry picked up one of his books on occlumency and began reinforcing his shields in preparation for the inescapable mental probe that would no doubt be performed by Dumbledore the next day. Several short hours later, the raven-haired boy fell asleep alongside his three-year-old sister.

XxXxXxXxXx

Harry was rudely awoken by Em rolling around the bed in an attempt to escape from the bed. Ensuring that the silencing charm was still firmly in place on the hangings around the bed, Harry dragged his trunk onto his bed and opened it up.

Inside his trunk was note the sort of things you would find in most eleven-year-old boys' trunks. No, Harry's trunk consisted of many different compartments, each of a rather large size. After months of research, much trial-and-error, and also several well-placed undetectable extension charms (courtesy of his father's old wand) he had managed to change the rather ordinary trunk into an almost identical replica of Potter Manor. It was rather helpful for both his and Em's needs, especially for their time at Hogwarts.

Gently picking Em up, Harry surpassed the many precautionary locks placed on the trunk and climbed through the opening, and he found himself in a bright and welcoming living room. Wooden floorboards paved the floor, and stylish leather sofas had been placed around a dancing fire that warmed the room to maintain a pleasant temperature. Pushed against the walls were many bookshelves with a small selection of books, although most of the more valuable ones resided in the library.

Harry glanced at the grandfather clock in the corner of the room, which read six thirty. He sighed, exasperated. Em never let him get much sleep, but at least now he would have plenty of time to prepare for the day of oncoming classes. Em started wriggling in Harry's arms, and he set her down onto the nearest sofa before leaving the room and entering the kitchen.

Surprisingly, the kitchen in Potter manor was not dissimilar to that of a muggle household. This was partially due to the fact that Harry particularly enjoyed cooking, and was reluctant to allow the house elves to do all of it. And so Harry began the familiar routine of cooking breakfast. However, unlike most days, today he was preparing only for Em, since he realised it may seem rather suspicious if he didn't turn up to breakfast.

After breakfast for Em had been prepared, served and consumed, Harry called for a house elf, and Tibby appeared with a crack. He requested for her to look after Em for the day while he was attending his classes, and Tibby eagerly complied. For whatever reason, many of the house elves seemed rather fond of the young witch

After that call of business had been rectified, Harry picked up his first-year transfiguration textbook and exited his trunk, where he found himself sitting on his newly-acquiered bed in the Ravenclaw common room. After casting a quick _tempus_ charm, he discovered the time to be seven thirty, and that an hour and a half still remained before breakfast was served. At least he still had a bit of time to go over the material for his classes- not that he hadn't already read the compulsory reading material... several times over.

XxXxXxXxXx

Time passed quickly and, before he knew it, Harry was meeting Hermione in the common room and making their way to the Great Hall. They discovered Neville, the boy who they met on the train and was sorted into Gryffindor, along the way, and the trio happily discussed their classes for the day.

Neville claimed he was most looking forward to their herbology lesson, whereas Hermione was excited for charms. Personally, Harry was eagerly awaiting their defence against the dark arts lesson- although that may have something to do with the new professor.

The friends entered the Great Hall, and they were greeted with a sudden hush and many pointed glances in Harry's general direction. Rolling his eyes, said child led Hermione to the Ravenclaw table, and Neville parted with them to join the Gryffindor table. As Harry sat down, the Hall was filled once again with an urgent chatter, although it was not hard to guess the subject of the majority of the conversations. Not hard at all.

Harry helped himself eagerly to the banquet that lay before him and Hermione, who was sat beside him, did the same. Harry chose to ignore all of the unabashed stares in his direction, even two in particular from the direction of the head table- one excited and eager, the other with eyes twinkling maniacally and scheming expression.

Both Albus Dumbledore and Sirius Black were watching Harry Potter as he sat down at the table, though both for very different reasons. Sirius was contemplating what his arrival could mean about James and Lily, whereas Dumbledore had skipped over that point without care, and was already planning the young boy's future.

Harry sighed as the post was delivered and a plain brown tawny owl dropped a letter in front of him, already having guessed at its contents. Hermione noticed his actions, and craned her neck to see the contents of the letter as he broke the seal.

"Who's it from?" She asked.

"Dumbledore. He wants me to go up to his office after classes. I can hardly guess why," his voice was laced heavily with sarcasm, and Hermione frowned.

"What's wrong?"

"I'll tell you later, we have transfiguration in five minutes."

The pair hurried out of the Hall, their every move followed by the majority of the student population.


End file.
